Teaching The Art
by SirPeterWolfsBane
Summary: The Council has decided it is time that King Peter learn the fine art of courting. Deposited into the hands of a Courtesan named Elandria; Peter learns about love, lust, and politics. Peter/Susan; Peter/OC *but not romantically- does that make sense?*
1. Chapter 1

He was tired of all the councilmen always barraging him with pretty girls and father's promises. He didn't want to be married- he was quite happy with Susan and Lucy being the only leading ladies in his life. He closed the door to his room, sinking with relief against the door. The councilmen were gone; and the other three Pevensie's had gone on some sort of outing- more than likely to the beach. At first he was green with envy that they had gotten to go; but now all he wanted was to be alone. They had run him ragged today about some princess from across the sea; he couldn't hold them off much longer if they kept being so persistant.

"Your highness seems to have lost his awareness," a feminine voice said. Peter nearly leapt out of his skin- he had been so sure he was alone. He looked at this woman distrustingly. She was beautiful, with dark curls and bright eyes. He swallowed a bit, angry at himself for thinking such things and furious with her for being in his room.  
"No one is to be in my chambers without my permission," he said harshly, "Now get out." She stood up, giving him a skeptical look.  
"Really, you don't even want to know why I'm here?" she asked, moving from the chair over to him. She stroked his cheek with the long nail of her pointer finger, making his feel uncomfortable. He squirmed away from her touch, making her grin.  
"Why are you here, then?" he asked, the venom gone. She smirked, grabbing his arm firmly and leading him over to the bed. She pushed him down to sit, giving him a wink.  
"I'm your new tutor," she said, "And I am here to teach you what men cannot." She came towards him, and he scrambled away, over the bed and into the wall.  
"Stay away from me," he demanded, "What are you, the King's personal slave? I don't want-"  
He couldn't finish his statement before having a resounding slap cut him off. The woman reached out, grabbing his chin hard and dragging him closer to her.  
"Little King," she said, her voice deadly soft, "Your first lesson- no matter what her rank or title; no matter if she cleans your dishes or bears your children- you shall treat a woman at all times with the utmost respect." She pushed him down on the bed, her hands on her hips.  
"I am Elandria, your Courtesan. I've been hired by the council to teach you the art of courting, romance, and sex. Don't look so scandalized," she said with a laugh at his expression, "A king has duties to his country; and some lessons are better taught in the flesh."  
"I don't want to do that with you," he said, his voice almost a whine. She rolled her eyes, untying her dress easily and dropping it to her feet. Peter stared at her, a bit wide eyed. She was flawless, her skin porcelain white and smooth.  
"Then who do you want to do "that" with?" she asked, "If you prefer men, my brother is a male courtesan and he's also skilled in his craft. I'm not here to judge your preferences or who you love. I'm here to teach you."  
She was here to teach him about sex? And she had just offered her brother to teach him..he shook his head quickly. Then he was going to... Peter blanched, his face going white. She reached out, ruffling his hair gently.  
"Oh, you are a sweet little thing, aren't you?" she said, "Well, if you like women, I'm here to teach you how to get them to like you back. How old are you?"  
"I'm 17," he said quietly, still a bit skittish.  
"Ah, so young," she said, stroking his cheek, "You have beautiful skin, your highness." She pinched his skin gently, looking him over.  
"Will you teach me how to make a girl love me?" he asked. He looked at her hopeful, as if she held the secret answers to every question he'd ever asked.

"My lord, I will teach you how to have every woman eating out of your palm."


	2. Chapter 2

Elandira's tutelage was rigorous; and suprisingly- much of the time she was fully clothed and he was not.

"You have to become comfortable with your own nudity," she said, as she sat in an elaborate gown, "A woman naturally is shy; self-conscious. She will cover herself from your eyes; and she will be more shy if you aren't comfortable with yourself." She tapped his stomach with the tip of her wand, as he called it, "Up straight. Don't slouch; it creates less alluring lines in the body. A man is angular; hard lined while the woman is gentle curves and soft lines. It's the way nature intended things to be." She stood up, walking around him, poking and prodding at him.  
"Your stomach could use toning," she said, "When standing in your meetings, I want you to suck in your belly and keep it contracted. This will build muscle there and allow you to last longer."  
"Yes, Mistress Ela," he said hesitantly. She had given him little pointers and tricks; things to do when he was otherwise busy that would help with his lessons here. She seemed satisfied, nodding with approval. He craved her approval so much; after only a few weeks under her he wanted nothing more than her nods and smiles. He wondered if he had fallen in love with her, but decided that he hadn't. He only wanted to do well at his lessons, to impress the girl he truly loved.  
"Very good your grace," she said softly, "Now. We move on to a very important lesson. A woman's gown is often complicated and difficult to remove. We've practiced how to until the laces quite a few times; the orders in which you do so; and the reasons why. Now; we test how well you've studied. You must remove my gown as quickly as you can without a mistake. Now, go."

He stood frozen for a moment, confused. She was timing him? He felt a sharp sting on the front of his thigh, a loud snap echoing in the room. She had smacked his leg with her wand, and raised it to strike again. He moved quickly, his fingers unlacing the ties as fast as he could while Elandria snapped her wand at his bare legs and rear. He felt the peppered strikes of the wand against his skin, his enthusiasm greatly improved by the practiced swats she delivered. He winced every now and again, but focused intensely on his work. Finally, the dress slid from her body and onto the floor; he was slightly red-faced.

"Well done," she complimented him, nodding.  
"Why did you hit me?" he demanded, his hand rubbing at the thin raised lines that the wand produced. She laughed a little, stroking the line on his upper thigh.  
"Your grace, pain is an integral part of this training," she replied, "There can be much pleasure in small pains. The pinch stings," she said, gently pinching his nipple, "But when soothed, it becomes pleasure." She kissing the hardened bud on his chest gently, her tongue darting out to soothe it. He gasped, arching away from her touch. She grinned, looking down at his half erect prick. His hands flew to cover himself from her vision, but she reached out and slapped his fingers with the wand hard. His hand flew out of her way as he glared.  
"See?" she asked, running her hand over him, "I wouldn't steer you wrong."  
It scared him that she was teaching him these things- how to manipulate his own body into doing things he was sure that normal boys in London would never do. But he wasn't a normal boy in London. But she wasn't wrong- it was rigorous work and he could already feel himself becoming more and more confident with tasks that once intimidated him. If he could satisfy his strict Mistress Ela, he could easily deny and argue with the councilmen. She was often there, standing in the far corner with an approving smile on her graceful lips.  
More and more often, he was finding the courage to argue with the council over important things- like his need to wed.

"High King," one man began, only to be cut off by Peter's hand.  
"Stow it," he said seriously, "We need to be focusing on the lands at this moment. Not your need to play matchmaker." He heard her soft laugh from the corner; blushing softly. The councilman looked sufficiently irritated; but Peter paid him no heed.  
"Please, Your Grace," he began again, causing Peter to look at him angrily. He opened his mouth; ready to yell at the man when he felt Elandria's hand on his arm.  
"If it please Your Grace," she said softly, "Perhaps you have had enough of meetings today." He nodded, agreeing with her. He waited for them all to leave, his blood boiling. When Elandria closed the door gently behind the, he exploded.

"How dare you!" he yelled, getting in her face, "I had it sorted! You're a courtesan, what would the likes of you-"  
His face snapped to the side, pain blossoming in his cheek yet again. He looked back at her, still incensed, opening his mouth to continue.  
"Stop," she ordered, "Think about what you are about to say to me." He rubbed his cheek, his anger waning in the face of hers.  
"I'm sorry, Mistress Ela," he said, using the name he knew she most prefered. She glared at him, folding her arms angrily.  
"Using my pet name will not save you from what you're about to experience," she hissed, "Tell me exactly what you were going to say to me."

Peter bit his lip, rather ashamed of what he was going to say if she hadn't stopped him. He looked down at his feet, embarassed, "I was going to say...What would the likes of you know about politics...that you're only..." he swallowed hard, "A whore to a king." She circled him like a vulture around it's prey, Her wand pressing into his skin and sending shoots of fear up his back.  
"I see," she said quietly, "Well. Let us test your knowledge, since you are so very much smarter than I am."


End file.
